


Nicknames

by PaperxPens



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Varian and the Seven Kingdoms
Genre: Donella hates herself lmao, F/F, I violently project onto Donella lol, Inspired by Varian and the Seven Kingdoms - Kaitlyn Ritter & Anna Lencioni, It's probably not healthy but whatever, Melting Point - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26687596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperxPens/pseuds/PaperxPens
Summary: Her name was Donella, cold, lonely, calculating. She was not one for nicknames, for closeness. But one person changed everything then took it all away.
Relationships: Donella/Ulla (Disney: Varian and the Seven Kingdoms)
Kudos: 5





	Nicknames

**Author's Note:**

> // Not explicit Melting Point but there are hints. Hey see if you can kinda track all the little tidbits I included, or something like that. I uh- I really like how this came out

They were let out of class by the lunch bell. Groups of students filed out, each joining their friends and sitting together in clusters in the schoolyard. Conversation flowed as topics ranging from assignments to the latest gossip were discussed. Most students sat out in the sun, taking advantage of the warm weather. Her favorite spot was in the shade, underneath the large oak tree to be exact. It was a bit of a walk away from the schoolhouse, but it was quiet and secluded and lonely. Just the way she liked it. Most students avoided the area since it was prone to the occasional ant colony or bug, she always found the little insects fascinating to observe. Though it wasn’t a surprise that she had taken an interest in them, the gray-haired girl was absolutely fascinated with science of any kind. Always the first to raise her hand in class with a question or answer that baffled even instructors. She had a quick wit and would speak directly, straight to the point. There was no need to speak unless something meaningful was being said. Teachers called her wise beyond her years, almost shockingly mature. However, her nearly icy nature made her a little, hard to approach, though she didn’t particularly see the problem with that. If anyone were to approach her it was most likely to make a snarky remark on her clothing, or her hair, or her in general anyway. At a young age, she had learned that it was better to be alone. When she was alone, she didn’t care what others thought. When she was alone, no one knew how to actually insult her well. When she was alone, no one could hurt her. That’s not as if the comments halted once she established her distance, rather they quieted and were reduced to whispers and rumors. ‘I heard that her hair was a failed science experiment’ ‘Well I heard that she was a failed science experiment’. Walking past the other kids quickly, she grumbled to herself. For some reason, she’d hear everything. Anything that her classmates uttered in hushed voices, whether it was about herself or anyone else, she’d listen and remember. As quiet as she was, the students definitely saw her while making those comments, yet they continued and allowed her to listen in on their discussions. Maybe they didn’t see her as a threat, maybe they didn’t care if she heard their secrets at all. Maybe it was because they knew that she had no one to tell them to. Sitting down amongst the gnarled roots of the oak, she crossed her legs and set her bagged lunch in her lap. Her posture was stiff and straight, a frown ever-present on her lips. Cold green eyes shot up when two girls approached, her mere gaze sent them scurrying back towards the schoolyard and the light. She was about to begin eating when a voice called out to her. 

“Hi!” Usually, the girl was aware of everything around, it was rather difficult to sneak up on her. Her head whipped in the direction of the voice to find, no one? Glancing around, she was about to get up and look around when a laugh-filled the air. “I’m up here, silly!”

Her gaze traveled upwards to find a girl in a blue dress sitting in the branches of the oak, pretty far up. She must have gotten there before her and, and did this. The girl on the ground wrinkled her nose in confusion and stared up at her.

“Why?” Her tone was cold even when asking a simple question. A simple question although her mind was swimming with more. ‘Why are you sitting here?’ ‘Why aren’t you with your friends?’ ‘Why do you want to sit near me?’ Oftentimes this was the case, with words she wished to say remaining unspoken in the air. Unwilling to be uttered for fear of revealing too much about herself, for fear of accidentally opening up. Silence was, in turn, the better option. Or at least restraint.

“Well, I’ve seen you sitting here and you’re always alone, and who wants to be alone?” Her voice was so fast and expressive that the girl staring up at her blinked slowly once she started to speak and her excitement was evident in her words. “So I thought I’d be your friend!”

The girl grinned when she had finished, seeming rather proud of herself and her, explanation. That wasn’t necessarily an answer to her question, though it sparked more important inquiries. The prominent one being, why did she want to be friends with her? If she was in her class, well the child wasn’t aware. She didn’t really pay attention to her peers. She put as much distance, as she could between herself and them, not wanting to attach faces and names to the hurtful words. 

“Why?” She asked again, her tone this time hinting a little at disgust. That usually drove everyone away, though the girl with fiery red hair didn’t seem deterred as she made her way down with incredible skill and hopped onto the dirt, sitting down next to her.

“Because you’re interesting!” Her tone was so matter-of-fact that, for a second, she could actually consider the possibility that the words were truthful. For a second. What was this, some kind of trick? Maybe a prank of sorts where everyone would get a good laugh at her expense? Her green eyes darted around, trying to find something to indicate that this was all a ruse. Maybe a dare? Someone dared her to go chat with the weird girl, possibly even stating that she’d be cursed if she got too close. That’s happened to her before. No one could possibly want to be friends with her without any reason, without any motive. 

“But you never seem too happy when people walk up to you. So I thought I’d surprise you! Surprise!” She held up her hands in a pizazzy manner and grinned widely. This was… strange.

“What’s stopping me from making you leave now?” The child grumbled and shrunk away from her. She was at least four inches taller than the girl, thin and deathly pale, almost ghostly. She might as well already be a ghost no one seemed to care about her presence, except her for some strange reason she had yet to learn. And no it was not because she was ‘interesting’. Setting her lunch to the side, she pulled up her knees to her chest and turned away, resting her pointy chin there.

“But you haven’t, have you?” Lifting her head slightly, she blinked in surprise and glanced over at the girl who smiled triumphantly and took a bite out of her sandwich, giving her a cheeky grin. Seriously, who smiled this much? Though she supposed that the girl did have a point. Apparently, she wasn’t as stupid as she was stupidly happy. She scoffed and huffed, blowing a strand of her naturally gray locks out of her hair. Although she could easily dispel the rumors about her hair, for some reason she didn’t have the motivation to do so. Maybe a small part of her felt as if she deserved the mean words, like she deserved to be ridiculed simply be existing. Like there was something inherently wrong with her.

“I guess not.” The words eventually left her lips and the girl beside her giggled and kicked her legs slightly. Seriously, no one was this happy. Wincing when her newfound companion of sorts reached over to pat her shoulder or something, she was pleasantly surprised when the girl noticed the motion and pulled away. Hm, that was different, it was almost nice. Turning towards the girl out of sheer curiosity, she tilted her head to the side slightly as her green eyes locked onto the other’s blue ones. For a moment, she was lost in them.

“You’re funny,” Her mouth was open like she was struggling to remember a word before her lips closed and she tilted her head to match. “I don’t suppose you have a name?” Her confused expression turned into a slight frown though she wasn’t surprised at the question. While rumors flew around her, few kids actually bothered to learn about their target. Even teachers just simply pointed at her to call. She shrugged, knowing that she was merely another inconsequential name in the lives of others. Something that could easily be forgotten without much effort if any. Couldn’t hurt to tell her, not like anyone bothered to remember. Not like anyone bothered to remember her either.

“I’m Donella, you?” That was the correct greeting, by the book. It wasn’t like she had to remember the girl’s name if she were even told. It’s not like anyone came back after talking to her once.

“Donella? That’s a long name.” Donella rolled her eyes at the comment, though it was chipper and light and the girl seemed genuinely happy to talk to her. Seemed. “No no! I like it!” She reassured after the eye-roll and rocked back where she was sitting to lean against the trunk of the tree. Donella just scoffed again, like she could believe that. Her name was long and stuffy and almost pretentious sounding. It was fitting, and like her, unlikable. 

“I’m Ulla.” Ulla grinned over at her and watched the girl closely for her response, though she didn’t get anything besides a nod. Something was happening underneath her calm facade, something she hoped to one day see and possibly understand. A silence fell between the two, a comfortable silence as there wasn’t really anything else to say. Donella glanced over at the girl as she ate, for once enjoying the company.

Pulling the curtains closed made a high pitched noise that honestly hurt her head. The sunlight had woken her up as it filled the room through the window. Across the lab, a bit messy and cluttered from a night of research, was Ulla. She had been the first to fall asleep, Donella was more of a night owl anyway. At night there was no judgment when it came to being alone. She’d be alone with her thoughts and she enjoyed the solitude but sometimes, sometimes being alone with her thoughts was a scary time. Maybe that was why she had started to invite Ulla over to study with her. Not like the two needed to study in school, it was a flimsy excuse to hang out with her and Donella knew Ulla saw through it. Though she went along with the excuse and gladly came over to ‘study’. Which usually led to the two talking long into the night about anything and everything. Around Ulla, around her, Donella spoke and she felt heard. Ulla cared about what she had to say, she could tell from how her blue eyes would lock onto her like she was the only other thing in the world. It felt nice, to finally know that someone cared about what she had to say. It felt nice, to finally know that someone cared about her.

The gray-haired girl had just rolled her eyes at her sleeping friend and made her a makeshift bed with Donella’s bag and jacket, carrying her over in her arms and even tucking the girl in. Ulla was light and easy to carry and for some strange reason, it just felt natural to have her curled up in her arms for the short moment it took to bring her to the corner of the room. Squinting as she stared out the glass to gauge the positioning of the sun, Donella hurried over to her partner and nudged her awake with the toe of her boot. Ulla always needed more time to lay in bed complaining about having to get up and start the day. 

“Wake up.” She said curtly as the girl groaned and curled up around her leg. Donella rolled her eyes and tried to shake her arms off before giving up and reaching down to quickly whip off her jacket that was being used as a blanket. Ulla frowned at the cold and opened her blue eyes a smidge, still clinging onto her friend’s outstretched leg. Watching as she shrugged on the article of clothing she was using as a blanket, Ulla grinned and slowly sat up as Donella rolled her eyes at her. By the time she had rubbed the sleep out of those blue eyes, Donella was already cleaning up and putting books back in order on the shelves. She was always so on top of things, it amazed Ulla, to say the least.

“Thanks for tucking me in.” Ulla wasn’t deterred when Donella just grunted in response as she filed books in alphabetical order by the author’s last name. She was used to how her friend seemed so quick and eager to brush off any compliment she was given, sadly she wasn’t given many. Also how she was so so quick and eager to latch onto whatever negative phrase was thrown at her, sadly she had many to choose from. Donella shrugged at the thanks, sure it was nice of Ulla to express her gratitude, that was something she liked about her. How she was so ready to let others know their value, how she was so quick to compliment, how she was so open. Donella only hoped she knew how much she was valued, how much Donella valued her through her own strange ways of showing it. Through her actions, rather than words. Actions were practical, they were useful, they had value. And her value? Well logically her value rested in what she did, what she accomplished. What was she if she offered nothing in return for dealing with her personality? Although she was grateful for that little thank you, more than grateful it made her heart skip a beat, though that wasn’t obvious. Donella wasn’t about to pat herself on the back for doing something so simple and warranted. She wasn’t about to congratulate herself for doing something nice for someone good.

“Get your things. We have class.” She said gruffly but by this point, Ulla had learned that this was just how she spoke. Taking her bag as Donella shoved it into her arms, she glanced around the workshop that had nearly miraculously become clean again.

“I don’t know how you do it, Don.” Donella paused, she was already at the door with her back towards Ulla when she had spoken. Her hand was on the handle but froze. Turning her head to look over her shoulder, she had a thin frown on her face and an arched eyebrow, a questioning expression.

“Don?” Her tone was icy but honestly just a little confused. No one took the time to remember her name, much less cared enough to give her a nickname.

“Yeah, it’s like Donella but without the ella.” Ulla explained and had that little goofy grin on her face, Donella would have rolled her eyes if she wasn’t so confused.    
“Why did-” She shrugged it off and shook her head. Turning back to the door, she didn’t know how else to react, didn’t know how to handle this strange feeling of closeness. On one hand, it was nice, more than nice, better than nice. On the other, it was terrifying. Rejection was the easiest method. “My name’s Donella.” She growled and stepped out, closing the door behind her as she walked out of the lab to quickly get ready for school. Ulla wasn’t deterred, it’d take time. Donella just needed time to warm up, and they had all the time in the world to get closer. Or as close as Donella would let her, she was already grateful to have gotten this far.

Walking around the busy market place instead of going to their own graduation party, the two hurried along side by side. Donella never liked parties and frankly, Ulla was more interested in the sights of the traveling market than some stuffy graduation. Over the years, her friendship with Donella had meant scuffles with their other classmates. Fights Ulla was eager to jump into and fights that Donella had to physically restrain her from. Ulla always questioned her as to why she didn’t stand up to the rude remarks when Ulla knew her friend could handle herself in a fight. Donella would mutter something about choosing battles before storming off. She was always the restraint Ulla needed. Needless to say, she didn’t mind missing the chance to say goodbye to her best friend’s tormentors. Wandering through the town square, Donella was well aware when Ulla wandered off and made sure to keep an eye on her as she examined some interesting dried specimens. Ulla’s eyes had been caught by some leather-bound journals at one of the stalls. Turning, she easily spotted the braid of long gray hair and waved. 

“Hey, Don! Come check this out!” She called, expecting to be ignored like every time she used that little nickname. Though she’d be mistaken as Donella turned and walked over to her quickly, her hands clasped behind her back as she examined the journals. 

“I thought you didn’t like the nickname.” Ulla couldn’t help but tease and gently bumped her friend with her hip. It had filled her with great pride the day that Donella allowed her touch, something she always had an aversion to in general. With Donella, every tiny thing was important since she allowed so little to be shown about herself. That small allowance of closeness, it was a sign that she wanted Ulla to be there, it was a sign of trust.

Scoffing softly, Don reached up to brush a strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear. “Let’s just say I warmed up to it.” She replied though it almost sounded like she was sheepish to admit it, which only fueled Ulla more.

“Donella? Warm-up?” The phrase was followed by a mock gasp and received with an eye-roll as the taller girl reached into her bag to pull out some coins, groaning as her friend went on. “Shall we consider this a scientific miracle?” 

Okay, that elicited a small chuckle from Don but surprisingly no smile. That was how Donella laughed, so that only those closest to her would know she was expressing joy. Most of the time that meant only Ulla heard her laugh, she was the only person who could get Donella to laugh. “More like an outlier caused by an external factor.”

She quipped and glanced over to see Ulla grinning at their little banter. She handed the salesman a few coins to pay the price of a green journal with silver accents at the corners. Gray and green, her colors.

“And what would that factor be?” The shorter girl had to stand on her toes to get in Donella’s face about the matter, to which Donella wrinkled her nose and stepped past her. It appeared like she was done with that conversation. Don always had a rather abrupt way of ending things. Ulla hurried to follow and eventually caught up as Donella shoved the journal she had just bought into her arms.

“Saw you eyeing it. Consider it a graduation present.” She explained curtly to which Ulla smiled. She did care. Underneath that cold facade, Donella cared so much. Ulla only hoped that she could show her that it was safe to stop hiding, only hoped that she could help her feel safe to care. “Fill it up with something meaningful for me, alright?”

Ulla only grinned and reached over to take her friend’s hand, their fingers felt so natural slipped together. Maybe that was why Donella stiffened for a second before relaxing and reciprocating the grip.

“We’ll fill it together. You and me.”

  
  


After they graduated, Donella had confided in Ulla that she was worried about the two drifting now that school was over. Well, worried was an understatement. She had said worried in an attempt to downplay the soul-crushing, mind-numbing terror she was feeling because Don couldn’t bear to even think about her one friend, her closest friend, leaving her. Maybe this was why she was terrified of closeness. Terrified to care if someone would leave. Admittingly she had spoken late at night when the two already pulled an all-nighter the day before, so she was quick to brush off her words as half-asleep ramblings. Just tired nothingness she had said to fill up empty space. However, it seemed like no matter how hard she insisted that her ‘feelings’ were nonsense or how many times she denied them entirely, Ulla saw through the facade. Of course, she did, she learned long ago that each and every little thing Donella let slip, she meant wholeheartedly. 

Of course, she did, she learned long ago that Donella did feel and care and love, she just didn’t like showing it. So, without pushing her friend too much, Ulla simply agreed with her and suggested a little tradition of sorts, stating that she would miss Donella too much if they didn’t establish it. She knew Ulla was just saying that to save Don’s pride, something she readily agreed to. Each year without fail Donella would fill a picnic basket with two sandwiches, some fruit, and whatever journal she was currently working to fill up. Each year without fail Ulla would tuck a nice thick blanket underneath her arm and carry with her some colorful pens, an interesting book or two, and whatever journal she was currently working to fill up. Donella had made remarks about how she never seemed to bring the journal that she had given Ulla as a graduation present, to which Ulla simply stated that she was waiting for an adventure worthy of such a gift. Then Donella would shrug it off and move on, but Ulla knew she was flattered. They’d arrive at the same time. Even Ulla who was known to be a little all over the place. This was important, and she’d never miss their little meeting underneath the same tree where Ulla had sat and waited for Donella to arrive all those years ago. Where their friendship had started.

Ulla would lay out the blanket and the two would eat while chatting about whatever crossed their minds. Even though they saw each other 3 times a week at the very least, there was still plenty to talk about. There was always something to talk about when Ulla was around, always a chance for her to express her thoughts. She was the only person who could get Donella to ramble, frankly, she was the only person who allowed Donella to ramble, and for that, Don was eternally grateful. It was nice to have someone who cared about her thoughts. It was nice to have someone who cared about her without any extra incentive. It was nice to have someone who cared about her.

As the day went on they would write in their journals, sometimes silently, and just enjoy the other’s company. While around them words came easily, so did silence. Everything was just so natural when they were together, when she was around. 

Leaning back against the tree as she wrote, Donella was more focused on Ulla doodling in the margins of her journal with a colorful pen. She scoffed but there was the faintest hint of a smile on her lips and glimmer of amusement in her eyes. Her margins were always filled with more notes and notes and notes until the words almost jumped together. The space had to be filled with something meaningful, with information.

“Why don’t you use the margins for something important?” She asked quietly, no longer was her tone as icy and cold as it usually was. It only softened for her. Donella only softened for her. Ulla glanced up at her and grinned, leaning over and resting her head on Donella’s shoulder. The first time Ulla had done this, well she had fallen asleep on the woman and woke up with Donella’s head resting on her own. Since she knew that Donella would have shoved her off if she wanted to, as she had done in the past, she assumed that Don liked that touch. Even though she’d never admit it. She didn’t have to admit it for Ulla to understand.

“This is important, Don.” Ulla simply replied with emphasis and looked back down at what she was doodling while Donella rested her head atop hers for a better view. Her eyebrow raised as she watched her finish the final curve of a heart, her cheek pressed against her red hair. The words ‘Donnie + Ulla’ were written inside the doodled shape. She made a small sound that seemed like a laugh and looked down at her friend with her chin now rested in her hair when she turned her head.

“Donnie?” Her tone had a small chuckle to it as she couldn’t help but smile, actually smile. Not the Donella half-smile or sneer, a real smile. Don hoped that Ulla couldn’t feel her heart pounding as she stared at the doodle. She hoped Ulla couldn’t hear it as that thumping sound of her blood pumping filled her ears. It seemed like Ulla understood that she was a fan of the nickname even when she didn’t say anything. Compared to how Donella usually reacted she was practically jumping for joy just by grinning.

“Yeah. It’s like Don but with an -ie at the end. And an extra n.” Ulla explained and watched as Donella shook her head with that soft smile that made Ulla’s heart flutter as much as Don’s had. The taller woman then closed her eyes, her arm draping over Ulla’s shoulders and pulling her closer underneath the shade of the oak. It was nice to have someone to talk to. It was nice to have someone to be with. It was nice to have someone to care about.

  
  


Wrinkling her nose, Donella pulled her arms closer to herself and grimaced. She rocked back and forth on her feet and glanced around Ulla’s home. It had only been a few weeks since Ulla gave birth. A process that Donella had been present for, upon Ulla’s request, and absolutely terrified at. It was probably the first time that Quirin had seen her so panicked and frazzled, a stark contrast to her usual calm and cold image. Donella remembered snapping at him when she had a brief moment of clarity and sensed his stares. ‘What are you looking at, Knight boy?’ before she immediately turned back to her friend who was probably screaming. Definitely screaming. The labor had started in the middle of the night, and even for Ulla, seeing Donella with wide eyes, in her pajamas, with her hair down, would have been quite funny if she wasn’t in excruciating pain. She had teased Don about it after the fact, to which Donella grinned sheepishly and crossed her arms, looking away. Ulla was the only one who could tease her and get away with it. Her hair had tried to hide the smile on her lips but Ulla knew. She couldn’t hide anything from her, and for someone who was so used to hiding in the shadows, not being able to hide was refreshing. Not being exposed when found out was more than reassuring.

Sucking in a breath, she took a step back and held up her hands as Ulla approached her. Donella was so used to seeing her with a massive baby bump that seeing her in her usual blue dress again was almost strange. She hadn’t even seen Ulla in weeks, wanting to give her distance to be with her family. Ulla had insisted she come over during those weeks but Donella had refused, once again stating that she should be with her family. Well, Don had received an invitation that day to come over, with Ulla’s handwriting saying that she had to be with all her family, including Donella. Or Donnie as she was addressed on the card. Donella had melted at this, luckily she was alone in her home and no one else saw that moment of vulnerability. No one got to see her vulnerable if they weren’t Ulla. If they weren’t her family, apparently.

“You know what, I think I’ll just come back tomorrow.” She said hastily and turned on her heel to head for the door, only for that familiar laugh to stop her and send shivers up her spine. Sighing, she stopped and turned, waiting for whatever Ulla had to say.

“Are you scared, Donnie?” She teased and walked closer, smiling as she watched Donella tense upon seeing the bundle in her arms. Her friend’s green eyes darted around before landing on hers and for a moment, they just stared at each other. For some reason just looking into her eyes calmed Donella down. For some reason, Ulla just calmed Donella down, reassured her.

“No! I just-” She grimaced and sucked in a breath as the bundle moved, yawning and shifting in his mother’s arms. Donella wrinkled her nose slightly. “I’m not good with kids.”

She eventually said quietly but didn’t object when Ulla reached out and took her hand. How could she ever object to Ulla’s touch? Watching closely as her friend gently took her finger and helped her bring it towards the baby, Donella resisted the urge to pull away. It was a strong urge, but her desire to make Ulla happy was stronger. The baby cooed and raised his tiny fists into the air, kinda shaking them around.

“Look, see. He already doesn’t like me- Maybe I sh-“ her protests quieted when the child’s chubby fingers wrapped around her one and squeezed tightly. She blinked in surprise and glanced up at Ulla who simply smiled back.

“Donnie, meet Varian.”

Her voice was gentle as Don glanced back down at the child. Her brief moment of amazement and slight intrigue was replaced with her signature frown as the baby started to spit and Ulla had to wipe his face. She bit her bottom lip, never been a fan of children, even when she was a child. They were… gross. In return, children weren’t really a fan of her. Maybe that’s why she never had any friends, except for Ulla. If this baby was now part of the package, well she’d just have to learn how to deal with him. She wasn’t going to like him, but she liked Ulla, a lot. Yawning, the baby squeezed her finger a little tighter before opening his eyes, and Donella’s breath caught in her throat for a moment.

“Eyes, he has your eyes.” She mumbled and glanced up at the original blue gaze that had captivated her from the moment they met. Nothing could replace her. Nothing could fill that space Ulla carved out in her heart except Ulla. 

The last year had been different, to say the least, but the only constant Donella needed was Ulla. As long as she was there, Donnie could keep going. With the baby, Don saw her less and less towards the beginning of the year. She understood, didn’t hold it against her. Honestly, she had expected Ulla to leave her a long time ago, so to just have her in her life still was enough. Ulla was more than enough for Donella. Eventually, Ulla had asked her to babysit, insisting that Donella didn’t have to if she didn’t want to. Although she wished that Donella could get along with her son, she wouldn’t push. Ulla did her best to know when to persist and when to drop it. She wasn’t always successful but she tried, and Donella was always there to help her. To her surprise, Donella insisted and pretty soon was over every day to help out, to the point where a spare bedroom was always made and an extra plate was set at the table for every meal. Soon there was no more “extra”, soon Donella was a standard member of their family. Obviously, Don took notice of this, and she’d be lying if she said that seeing this didn’t fill her with a little spark of joy, that being a part of Ulla’s life again didn’t bring her so much joy. Donella was many things, but she wasn’t a liar. 

Recently the ‘thing’ as Donella was referring to Varian as, had started to babble and speak. Sometimes Donella joked that he talked like his mother, quickly and incoherent, a joke that would earn her a playful nudge and laugh which only encouraged her. His first word had been Mama, something both Ulla and Donella teased Quirin over. 

Bouncing the child on her knee, Donella held him at arm’s length as he giggled and chewed on his own shirt. Her eyes were wide as she held him, if you could even call it that. She was a good babysitter in the way that she followed rules to the letter, her execution was just a little, distant. Distant because she didn’t want to hurt the poor child, she didn’t want to accidentally corrupt him in some way, she didn’t want to become attached. It took her years to allow Ulla this closeness, Varian wasn’t getting a pass just because he was a baby. Ulla was milling around the kitchen while Quirin was off sparring or whatnot. Donella didn’t really care. The two learned to live with each other, but that didn’t mean they necessarily got along.

“Hold him even farther away from you, Don.” Ulla quipped as she watched the two, Varian babbled excitedly when she walked over and reached out for her, though Ulla patted Donella’s shoulder. Green eyes met blue, and like all those years ago, she still stared at Donella like she was the only other thing in the world. Sighing, she rubbed the sleep out of her tired blue eyes and picked up her son who started to fuss, reaching out his grabby hands for Donella.

“Awe Donnie, he likes you.” Ulla cooed as Varian babbled and clenched his fists. His blue eyes staring into her green ones as Donella stood but made no attempt to move closer to him.

“Make him stop.” She grumbled and Ulla rolled her eyes in return. Classic grumpy Donella. Ulla didn’t mind, she knew Don cared just by being around and putting herself into uncomfortable situations for her. She did all that, for her.

Varian whimpered when Donella started to walk away, sputtering out noises that sounded like he was attempting to speak. Ulla held him in front of her. “What was that, Darling?” 

The baby only whimpered and turned to look at Donella who was reaching into the fridge for a snack, walking back over with an orange. He sputtered out some more noises and stared up at her with puppy eyes, similar to how Ulla would stare at her when she really wanted something. Only difference was that Ulla’s actually worked.

“D- d-“ he puffed his cheeks slightly and Ulla grinned, holding her son closer in her arms and pulling Donella over when she tried to walk off.

“Come on Varian, say, Donella.” Ulla was very well aware that she was the only person Donella allowed to nickname her, and she’d respect that even with a baby.

“What makes you think he wants me?” Donella muttered and handed Ulla two slices of the orange she was eating. Varian babbled happily when Donella got closer. For some reason she just couldn’t accept the possibility that Varian wanted to be around her, the same thing she couldn’t accept with Ulla all those years ago.

“I think that’s pretty obvious,” Ulla replied in a smug fashion as the baby grabbed a bit of her fiery locks and pulled.

“Oh please,” Donella scoffed and rolled her eyes, “he probably likes the shiny things on my shirt or-“

“Don-Don!” Varian cooed and Donella blinked in surprise. Ulla gasped excitedly and laughed, holding her son up and pressing her forehead to his.

“Yeah, sweetie! Don!” She giggled and for a moment Donella considered letting it slide.

“Don-Don! Don-Don!” Varian clapped his tiny hands as Ulla praised him. Donella pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Awe come on, Donnie. I think it’s adorable.”

“I think it’s annoying,” Donella muttered. Her words were harsh but her actions spoke louder. How she’d take care of Varian, even at arm’s length, was enough to tell Ulla that Don did care, she cared a lot.

“Don-Don!”

Donella groaned and sighed with exasperation, turning to face the child and leaning down, holding up one finger. “It’s Don. Just once.” 

Ulla smiled at her, surprised that the woman was insisting on ‘Don’ instead of ‘Donella’. She assumed it was because Donella was harder to say, but maybe there was something more.

“Don-Don! Don-Don!” Donnie groaned and shook her head, starting to walk off while muttering to herself about why it was harder to say one less syllable. 

“You’re lucky you’re Ulla’s son.” She grumbled under her breath and was about to retreat to her room down the hall.

“Hey, Donnie?” Ulla called and grinned when her best friend stopped and turned to look over at her while her son kept repeating his new-found words. “Are we still on for tomorrow?”

Donella actually smiled, filling Ulla with a sense of accomplishment. Honesty, the woman had assumed that Ulla wouldn’t have time that year now that Varian was older and more of a handful. 

“Are you sure?” She asked softly, not wanting to cause her any extra stress even though Donella wanted nothing more than to eat sandwiches and talk under that familiar tree. Ulla wanted nothing more than that as well and had made sure Quirin was free to watch Varian that day. She’d never be late to their annual meetup underneath the tree, even if they spoke every day.

“Of course I’m sure, Don. It’s tradition.” 

  
  


At the start of their journey to the Eternal Library, Ulla had pulled out that journal gifted to her by Donella all those years ago for graduation. Those days felt like a distant memory, but the most important things stayed the same. The leather-bound book was slightly dusty and stiff, but ready to be filled with that worthy adventure she always talked about. And oh boy was it filled. Pages and pages of diagrams and notes and research compressed into the pages, along with Ulla’s doodles of course. Though they were mixed in with Donella’s margin notes. Someone had to keep her level-headed. Ulla had insisted they fill out the journal together, that they’d do this together. Donella had no want to disagree, no reason to.

Time passed quickly on their journey, time always flew when they were together. For once, the passing of time didn’t bother Donella, Ulla had proven to her that she’d truly be around in the long run. That they’d truly have all the time in the world together. Through perilous chases and intellectually challenging problems, they were together through it all. Not just together as partners, but as each other’s most important. For someone like Donella, someone so goal-driven, goal-obsessed, to be more focused more on her partner rather than the end result was really something. She had assumed that Ulla was focused on the totems, the goal, the library, but once again she’d be proven wrong by her.

There had been a moment, an absolutely terrifying moment when the floor dropped from underneath Donella just as she had reached out to grab the totem. A time where she had been so stupid and eager and ready to pay for his mistake. Don always thought she should pay for her mistakes. Luckily Ulla’s hand had grabbed her as she dropped, Ulla being the one thing keeping her from falling, the one thing she had to hold on to. Green eyes had glanced back to see the totem starting to roll towards the edge, she had turned to look into those blue eyes for what she thought to be the last time. What had she said to her? ‘It’s okay.’ It was okay. No one in their right mind would sacrifice the totem they spent days searching for, just to save someone like her. It was okay, this was her dream, her journal to fill, her adventure. It was okay. But Ulla has simply tightened her grip and reached down with her other hand, not even watching the totem as she pulled her best friend up and back over the ledge. She had groaned with the effort and was barely able to get her up despite Donella being so thin. Ulla was significantly shorter and that always seemed to prove a challenge. In their panic, neither of them had thought to use their magic in any way, Donella wasn’t sure if that was smart or dumb of them, since they were so new to it. They had just sat on the floor of the temple and panted with shock, Donella looking up at her with amazement. Ulla never ceased to confound her. Reaching out, she had pulled her savior into a tight hug that day, to Ulla’s gleeful surprise. Her chin rested on Ulla’s shoulder and hand nestled in her hair. She chose her over a totem, she chose her over the Eternal Library, she chose her.

It took them a few extra days to track that totem down. Days of Donella feeling guilty and Ulla fiercely reassuring her that a ‘stupid’ totem wasn’t more valuable than her best friend’s life. Donella had quipped that the Eternal Library definitely was, and earned herself a fierce hug as protest.

This year, it seemed like their little tradition would be slightly different as the two couldn’t necessarily sit under that familiar oak tree and make their own sandwiches, it just wasn’t practical. Still, Ulla had insisted they take the time to do something, stopping their journey to sit under a tree that was similar and sending Don to buy food for them in the nearest town. She would never miss their little tradition.

Sitting underneath the tree, Ulla yawned softly and leaned over, her cheek finding that familiar shoulder to lean against. Donella glanced over at her, up from where she was writing and her green eyes met the page in the journal.

“What are you writing?” She asked, recognizing this page as different from the research notes they had been creating before. Ulla just shrugged and showed Donella a letter to her son. A letter to Varian.

“I just- miss him sometimes,” Ulla muttered and for a second Donella was struck by guilt. She had previously insisted on making the journey alone, but one look of those puppy eyes and Ulla was sitting next to her in the wagon. She should have resisted, should have argued. How dare she act so selfishly and take Ulla away from her son? Her family? They needed her, and sure Donella needed her too but- But she wasn’t as important. She just wasn’t as important.

“But!” Her voice pulled Donella’s focus back to the world as she nodded in acknowledgment. “Soon we'll be back and he’ll get to hear all about the fun adventure his mom and Aunt Don-Don went on.”

Ulla grinned at her and Donella, like always when mentioning that stupid nickname, groaned and nodded. At this point, she wasn’t even going to protest. Ulla reached over and took the hand Donnie was using to cover her face, holding it in her own and shutting the book. She held Donella’s hand in both of hers and stared into those green eyes like there was nothing else in the world besides Donella. There was nothing else in Donella’s world besides Ulla.

“This is it, Donnie.” She whispered, very aware that their journey was nearly at its end. Donella nodded and squeezed her hand a little tighter. “Thank you, for letting me be here.”

At that moment, Donella knew Ulla was referring to more than just being underneath an oak tree together, referring to more than just this journey. She was saying thank you, ‘thank you for letting me into your life.’ Why was she thanking her again? After everything, why was Ulla thanking her? Donella just smiled softly and scoffed, looking down for a moment before making eye contact again. She could just lose herself in those blue eyes.

“Thank you for wanting to be here.”

Hitting the stone wall with a dull thump, Don groaned as her body slid down and collapsed into a heap on the mist-covered ground. The messy hairs that escaped her tight braid became matted on her right cheek, matted down with a sticky dark red and brown liquid. Her eyes closed, and for a second she considered staying there. She was tired, so so tired of fighting. Of fighting the world, of fighting herself, of fighting her. For a second she considered succumbing and allowing it to end. For a second, she considered being selfish and avoiding the true consequences of her mistakes. In the darkness, behind her eyelids, those bright blue eyes flashed. They were too wide and clouded over with a desire for power, a mad desire. Her smile was spread across her face, crazed, and nearly sickening. Her blood thumped in her ears but that cackle from her best friend rang clear in her memory, along with the words she had spoken after. ‘Knowledge is power isn’t it Donnie? And we will know all!’. Recollections of the fierce battle, despite them happening mere moments prior, became hazy. Reduced to nothing more but flashes of bright green electricity and glowing blue gemstones, gemstones that made their permanent mark.

It felt like she had laid on the ground for an eternity, though it was probably closer to a few seconds. Her hand held her cheek, fingers getting wet and caked with dried blood and dirt as she sat up and raised her other hand. A hazy green shield appeared before her just as a shower of smaller blue gems struck and shattered to pieces. She wasn’t going to make the same error twice. Her green eyes narrowed into a glare as they rose towards the woman across the Library. Ulla’s eyes were narrowed as well and teeth gritted. Arms were free to move as she had dropped her bags onto the ground when they first arrived like she was perhaps planning on attacking. Donella had assumed it was simply because she was excited, but were her assumptions correct? Was she really planning to betray her? And for how long? For how long had she decided that she needed this power, for how long had she planned on using this knowledge for evil, for how long had she realized that Donnie wasn’t enough for her? Her vision blurred slightly as she strengthened the shield and watched as another rain of gems threatened to destroy her defenses. How could she have let Ulla destroy her walls?

Did she really convince herself that Ulla could be happy with her? Was she really so naive? Donella gritted her teeth, wincing as the motion tugged at the wounds on her cheek. This was her fault, all her fault. She noticed how Ulla had become withdrawn, noticed how she would grow quiet when talking about the Library. Of course, Donella noticed, she always noticed and saw and listened. And while she never knew how to fix things, she should have tried. But instead, maybe a small part of her didn’t want to constantly pull Ulla back, didn’t want to constantly rain on her parade. Maybe for a moment, Donella wanted to lie to herself, to convince herself that she could be someone like Ulla. Someone good like Ulla. Now she’d pay the price for her selfishness, she wasn’t going to escape it through death. Whatever came her way, she’d make sure she took it full force because, well because she simply deserved it after what she was about to do. She deserved to suffer the same way Ulla would, the same way her family would because of her.

Picking herself up to her feet, her usually straight posture was slouched as she leaned against the wall, one hand raised to keep up her defenses. She should have kept them up years ago. There were so many things she should have done. She should have paid more attention to Ulla when they were walking through the Library, saw what she was doing. She should have forced her to stay home and taken the journey alone, despite the risk of her dying alone, she’d deserve it. She should have never said anything about how much she cared for Ulla, she should have walked away that day underneath the oak tree.

What was that spell she had read? Donella couldn't exactly remember as she had barely finished the page when Ulla started her power spiral induced ramblings. The only time Donella ever cut off one of Ulla’s ramblings. Lifting her hand, the shield in front of her disappeared as she blinked tears out of her eyes, wincing as they flowed into her wounds and stung. Shakily, her hand lifted and then dropped as she felt the magic course through her veins. For some strange reason, she just knew, she just knew that Ulla wasn’t the same woman she had known her entire life. Don had taken a part of her life from her. 

Dropping to her knees in her grief, she looked up and realized that Ulla hadn’t even realized what she’d done. The crazed woman raised her hand, sending a large blue gem straight towards her former research partner, only for the gem to disappear into thin air at a certain point. She frowned, confused, and walked towards her, only to bump into a hazy blue forcefield. There was a pause as her blue eyes darted from the barrier to Donnie hunched over and- and wounded. Wounded because of her. Ulla’s face dropped as she rested both palms against the surface, looking up and then down at her friend who was, who was sobbing quietly. Donella never cried.

“Are you-” Her words became their quick and breathless selves again, and for a moment Donella could convince herself that this Ulla had returned to the woman she once knew. For a moment. “Are you really betraying me, Don?” Ulla squeaked out, not wanting to believe that she had lost herself, not wanting to accept what she had become.

Staring up at her, green eyes met blue and narrowed, looking away before she could lose herself. Before she could lose herself and become so blinded with affection that she let Ulla slip through the cracks. This is what closeness brought her, this is what Donella brought onto Ulla. Rising, she stared just past her shoulder, unable to look her in the eyes. Her hand still pressed against her cheek.

“Funny, who’s betraying who?” She growled, her tone cold and icy, a tone she rarely used on Ulla with such malice behind it. Closing her eyes as she gritted her teeth and turned away, she walked over to their discarded bags and put them on over her shoulder. Donella turned and stared back at the girl pressed against the barrier, Ulla’s eyes were wide with regret and pain and still staring at her like she was the only other thing in the world. Maybe if she pretended, she could ignore the sorrow behind them like she had chosen to ignore her descent into madness.

“Don- Don please-”

“My name’s Donella.” She hissed and choked back a sob, turning on her heel and racing out of the portal, leaving her in the dust of the battle. Only her friends were allowed to give her nicknames, only Ulla was allowed to give her nicknames. Now, Ulla was gone and- and there was nothing left.

The knock at the door was quick and purposeful. Quirin, putting Varian on his shoulders, rose from where he was sitting. Each day that had passed, he waited for a knock like that at the door. The familiar sound of either Donella or Ulla as they returned from their quest, as his family would return. Getting up, he hurried over to the door and opened it to reveal Donella? She stood tall with one hand behind her back, the other holding a green journal with gray embellishments at the corners. His dark eyes glanced around though Varian beat him to his question.

“Aunt Don-Don!” He cooed and rested his hands at the side of his father’s head. “Where’s Mama?”

Donella’s eyes narrowed at the question, and Quirin finally examined her face. Besides the cold eyes and hard jaw he was so used to, he blinked in surprise at the bandages taped to her right cheek. Her gaze gave away nothing as she glanced down to avoid the child’s blue eyes. They were too similar to his mothers, yet too different. Her face revealed none of the internal turmoil she had been feeling the entire journey back. This journey was faster, was direct. There was no one with her to encourage a break or blissful detour.

“Donel-”

His words stopped as the woman forcefully shoved the journal into his arms and turned on her heel. She turned and clasped her arms behind her back, leaving quickly without another word. There was nothing to say, no point in destroying Ulla’s memory for her own life, a life that had no meaning without her. She could learn to deal with the whispers, the rumors, the glares. Like when she was young, she knew she deserved them. She had already learned how to accept them, accept that she was the farthest thing from good, the farthest thing from Ulla.

  
  


The boy had been scruffy when she had first hunted him down, yes hunted. In the new town she had settled down in, deep within the Iron Kingdom, her reputation had followed. No matter how far she ran or how quickly, it seemed like the past could never truly set her free. She didn’t deserve to move on anyway, didn’t deserve to clarify the whispers and snarky words thrown in her direction as she walked down the street. When she walked, her hands felt unnatural at her sides, felt empty, so she preferred to tuck them behind her back. Her green eyes stuck towards the ground, wanting to avoid the stares and sky and any sort of reflective surface. The sky that reminded her of those pretty blue eyes and her reflection that only reminded her of what she had done, of what she deserved. One was a memory of losing herself, the other was a memory of losing her. While it may have seemed like the woman wasn’t paying much attention as she traveled through the marketplace, her senses were always on high alert. It was like she couldn't relax after what happened, couldn’t allow herself to get comfortable, and repeat her mistakes. She couldn’t repeat her mistakes. When she made mistakes, she hurt people.

It had been such a quick motion that the average person wouldn’t have noticed it. Though Donella guessed she wasn't average in many ways, not many good ways. He had disguised the grab by matching his pace with the movement of her leg, very smart. Glancing to the side and spotting the child run off with presumably the bag of coins she was carrying, the woman slowly turned and casually began to make her way in that direction. The crowd seemed to part as she walked, treating her like some toxin that needed to be avoided. She didn’t blame them, couldn’t blame them when they were correct. She was a murderer, a traitor, someone to be feared at best. Stopping just around the corner of the dark alleyway, her nose wrinkled as the smell of musty earth filled her senses, among other smells. Walking quietly, she was always so quiet that her former partner used to joke about putting a bell around her neck. She shook her head at the thought. Her mind drifting to her at the most inappropriate moments. It was difficult to train her brain to stop thinking about her former friend when Donella’s thoughts had been about her and only her for the better parts of their lives. Still, she hardened her jaw and focused only on making her way down the quiet path, making a mental note to clean her shoes later.

Walking up on a makeshift hut, she watched the blond child from before hunching over the coins he had swiped. She purposely shifted her toe while walking, making a scuffling noise to alert him of her presence. Everything she allowed to be shown was for a reason. The boy’s eyes darted up and were quickly filled with fear, Donella wasn’t fazed. It happened often, if it weren’t for the stories about her it was because of her face. Because of her scars. Because of her in general. She was just simply something, or perhaps someone, people feared. And maybe that was easier than being someone people loved, it was definitely safer. Stepping towards him, she wordlessly held out her hand, and the boy, to his own surprise, put the coins back in. Her fingers closed around the cold metal as she tucked them back into her pocket. Her green eyes examining the boy up and down. He wasn’t very much unlike the people of the lower class she’d often see in the marketplace, the only place where all classes of the kingdom met.

“I-I’m sorry! Please don’t cal-” His frantic pleas were cut off by Donella holding up her hand. She wasn’t interested in calling the authorities on him.

“Where’s your family, kid?” She asked in an unamused but not aggressive tone. More monotonous and strangely casual, if a little cold.

“Don’t have one.” He mumbled as a simple response and drew his knees to his chest. Donella nodded and, for some strange reason, she knelt down in front of him. Why was she still here, why wasn’t she leaving? She had gotten her money back, achieved her goal, so why wasn’t she moving? She knew better than to try and befriend someone, even if they were a child. So why couldn’t she- the boy turned and glanced into her eyes. For a moment, she saw more than a scrappy young thief. She saw an outcast, someone lonely, someone who needed something to hold onto. In a way, she saw herself. Saw herself without the scarring.

“Guess we have something in common.” Donella glanced over her shoulder and nodded. She had a family once, and she tore that family apart. What made her think for a second that she, of all people, could help this child? That she deserved a second chance? Donella believed in second chances, just not for someone like her. If anything she’d destroy him like she had destroyed her. It’d be for the best if she got up, got up and left, and stopped trying to prove to herself that she was anything close to a good person. She couldn’t use this child in her own selfish attempt to pretend and lie to her own mind, to try and prove wrong something she knew to be factual. Getting up, Donella started to walk away when she felt a tug at her pant leg and saw the child standing next to her. For a second there was bewilderment in her eyes, she wasn’t- hadn’t felt someone other than her grab at her leg.

“What?!” She growled a little too fiercely and pulled herself away from him. She had done it, she had scared him off. He’d be hurrying back to his hut by now and would know to avoid pickpocketing her the next time he saw her. Their paths would separate and she’d hopefully never see him again.

“Wait!” Donella paused as the boy called out to her, narrowing her eyes and regrettably stopping. She didn’t turn around, maybe that was her mistake last time. “Y-you’re that alchemy lady- right?”

He asked softly, knowing more harsh words to describe her. A witch, a killer, a traitor. He didn’t care about the rumors as long as she had money, and it seemed like she did. The woman nodded and her gray braid bobbed up then down against her back. “Well, I can- I mean if you want. I can clean your lab for you and- and run errands.”

Donella glanced back out of the corner of her eye, her hands fidgeting behind her back as she listened to his words. It felt wrong to have a child work for her, it felt wrong to leave him here on the streets, but it felt wrong to take him in. It felt too close.

“You work for me, I let you stay in my spare room.” She wasn’t too sure why she had a spare room in her home as if she were waiting for the day that the one person she longed to see came back. As if she were waiting for the impossible. Apparently, the boy nodded and hurried over, he didn’t carry anything with him. Donella was glad for that, she didn't want his ratty things in her lab. She’d purchase him some new clothing and essentials later, not because she cared or was taking him in or anything. It just came with the job.

Starting to walk away, the boy grabbed her hand. She froze and yanked her hand away from him, not due to the dirt caked onto his fingers along with who knows what, but because the last person to hold her hand hurt her so badly. And Donella wasn’t ready for someone else to be anything closer than arm’s length. However, it seemed like her strides were too much for him and it would be irresponsible to lose her new helper in the crowd. He was her responsibility now. Sighing, she quickly reached down and picked up the child, resting him on one shoulder. The boy wrapped his arm around her head but was quickly discouraged with a small shake. If she had been seen taking any other child, well Donella figured the authorities would have been notified. But no one seemed to want this boy, no one seemed to care about him. She understood what that was like.

A few years had passed since she had acquired her little helper. Well at this point he was more of her apprentice than a helper. Hugo was resourceful, bright, and absolutely fascinated by alchemy. He was a reflection of herself in some ways, a better reflection. Or at least she hoped he would be.

Donella was a stern teacher, not willing to stop an experiment or test until he got it right. Hugo didn’t seem to mind which led to many an all-nighter. That particular test wasn't completed until late into the next day. His mentor had patted him on the back before instructing him to clean up while she started to put the books back in their rightful places. Alphabetical by last name. Hugo didn’t mind her coldness, he was used to it in a way but also knew that she had her own methods of showing how much she cared. He hoped that she cared. Once she had put the books away, Donella walked over to her bag hanging by the door and threw it over her shoulder.

“Finish cleaning and then you can have the day to yourself.” She instructed curtly. Hugo always found it strange how Donella would always give him a break that day. Donella wasn’t one to allow breaks often. 

“Aren’t you going to sleep?” He asked softly though she didn’t act like she heard him, Donella’s way of letting him know that her answer was no. Her green eyes glanced over at him for a second before her hand reached for the door handle.

“I don't know how you do it, Don,” Hugo muttered, the name feeling strange on his tongue. He remembered what she had told him the day she took him in. ‘You may address me as Donella, nothing else’. Her tone had been so firm and absolute that he didn’t dare argue with the woman providing him a warm bed and roof over his head. “Can I call you, Don?” 

He added quickly, hoping that she’d say yes. Maybe possibly smile at the nickname. Since the day they met, for some reason he longed to know more about her. Though it seemed like they were just as distant as they were when she had thrown him on her shoulder to keep from losing him in the crowd. Her grip on the door handle tightened ever so slightly as her eyes dropped. It was like she hadn’t heard him, hadn’t heard the boy's words. She heard the girl’s instead.

“My name’s Donella!” Her tone got a little snappy at him, her volume rising ever so slightly. Hugo took a step back, Donella never raised her voice at him, never. This reaction, well it was extreme for her, all over a little nickname? “Go to sleep.” She growled softly and turned, heading out the door quickly and slamming it shut behind her.

Donella didn’t realize how quickly she was walking until she started to feel a bit winded. Slowing down, she sighed and ran one hand through the top part of her braid, smoothing it down. Her eyes stayed on the ground as she walked, avoiding the sky, avoiding the windows, avoiding the stares. The only things she couldn't avoid were the memories.

On that day she could barely concentrate on what was in front of her. On that day year after year, there was no avoiding them. On that day, there was nothing but the memories.

She didn’t even realize that her boots had started to step over gnarled roots until she nearly walked into the oak tree at the edge of town. It was different from their original tradition, but so much had changed that location didn’t really seem to matter anymore. Sitting down in the dirt, she glanced up to see two girls walk up to the tree, though one glare from her icy eyes, and they scrambled back to the town. There was a comfort in this, in the knowledge that no one would ever want to get close to her again. Not with the rumors that flew around, strangely similar to those rumors in the schoolyard but so very different. There would be no girl waiting for her in the tree branches, no girl waiting to hurt her. Glancing around, Donella pulled out a sandwich she had made while Hugo was working and started to eat by herself. Everything had changed, everything was different. If Donella closed her eyes, well she could pretend like she was back in their home before their journey, she could pretend that this day was like any of the ones before it. ‘Of course, I’m sure, Don. It’s tradition’. The words echoed in her mind as she shook her head, quickly wiping at her suddenly damp eyes. She always missed their meetings now, Donella never did

**Author's Note:**

> // So, are you one of the 5 people in the fandom who ship Melting Point?
> 
> Anyways, let me know your thoughts!


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